


Influence of Memories

by Erulisse



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:06:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2031339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erulisse/pseuds/Erulisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feanor's life was formed by death, beginning with that of his mother, Miriel Serinde.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Riddle with No Answer

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sandbox, I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.

A Riddle with No Answer

 

 

For long, it was just the two of them rattling around the large compound. Of course, there were servants, nannies and caretakers, but no mother, no sister, no aunt.

 

Fëanáro learned early that approval from Finwë's only came when he was stoic, biting his lip through pain. Laughter, always rare in their halls, almost disappeared.

 

When Finwë met Indis, his dour mannerisms changed to smiles, even laughter. Fëanáro felt it was like listening to a foreign language.

 

Now he stood in Lórien, looking at Míriel Serindë. “Why did you leave?” he whispered, but that was a riddle with no answer.

 

 

 


	2. The Charm of Embroidery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sandbox, I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.

The Charm of Embroidery

 

Fëanáro returned home from Lórien in a foul mood. Finwë found him later, fingering one of the large embroidered tapestries hanging in the central hall. 

“Did you get any answers to ease your mind, my son?” he asked. 

“No. What brought the two of you together?” 

“I saw her stitching, singing a song softly as her needle moved and the colors filled the space. She might have been singing a charm, but whether or not – she entranced me and I had to have her in my life. From that point, I wanted to be the blank fabric for her broidery.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always appreciated.


	3. A Scheduled Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sandbox, I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.

A Scheduled Life

 

 

Fëanáro looked at the list on Finwë's desk: “Dinner with Fëanáro and Indis,” was preceded by “Meet with district heads re taxes.”

 

Raising his head, he glared at his father. “Is this what we've become to you, entries on your calendar?” He grabbed the page, crumpling it in his fist. “Perhaps mother didn't want to be pigeonholed into stolen moments of your scheduled life.”

 

“No! Míriel was … she was ...”

 

“What? What was she to you? Tell me the truth for once!”

 

“She was everything to me, my love, my life,” Finwë whispered.

 

“Then why did she leave us?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always appreciated.


	4. A Song of Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sandbox, I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.

Song of Grief

 

 

To assuage his grief, Fëanáro composed a poem, later titled "Elegy for Míriel Serindë".

 

“Memory consists of golden strands,

Interwoven and often touching.

Combining they make a quilt of warmth.

A shield against my solitude.

 

You left, creating open wounds.

Your growth foreshortened, its fabric shredded.

A darkling path you now walk alone.

Only in my dreams do we touch.” *

 

Maglor set the words to music in a far land. As death became more commonplace, the song poem was sung at burial and remembrance ceremonies.

 

The meaning of the original words has been lost, but the melody still expresses sorrow.

 

 

* Translated from the original Quenya.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always appreciated.


	5. A Single Tear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sandbox, I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.

A Single Tear

 

 

Míriel Serindë became gossip's fodder but it was mere speculation. Despite the tales, only one fact existed. She had suffered depression and the care of Lórien and Estë had been unsuccessful. She then had passed through the doors of Lord Námo's realm.

 

In Mandos, she sits by the side of Vairë and embroiders the history of Middle-earth onto tapestries. Her fingers, blurred from speed, describe the battles and bloodshed faithfully. The silken thread was discolored only once; when a single tear fell upon the image of her dying son, clutched in the arms of Maitimo, in that far away land. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always appreciated.


	6. Passing the Torch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sandbox, I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.

Passing the Torch

 

 

Many years later, in another land and another time, hands left documents in a little-visited corner of one of the smaller libraries at Oxford. Rolled helter-skelter, they stuck out from open spaces on the shelving.

 

The disorganized sculpture of pages attracted the intended recipient. At loose ends since publishing his children's book, he glanced at the shelf. "Tsch!" he muttered as he pulled the vellum from the shelves and glanced at them to reshelf them accurately.

 

Hours later, as the lights flickered to warn students the library was closing, he had fallen under their spell. He would chronicle Elven history.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are always appreciated.


End file.
